


The Sun And I

by SSock



Series: Totally Not George Mallory Or Anything [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional Confusion, M/M, Mostly Unrequited Love, Nude Modeling, Unresolved Sexual Tension, artist-model relationship, possibly objectionable period-appropriate opinions, someday I will finish all those other fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SSock/pseuds/SSock
Summary: Leigh and David have escaped from me and are fooling around in David's studio.....I don't think Leigh puts on clothes this entire fic, actually.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Totally Not George Mallory Or Anything [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714528
Comments: 1





	The Sun And I

**Author's Note:**

> There were smartass comments that I wanted to make and then I forgot.
> 
> Oh, here's one:  
> I feel like I should preface this by saying that David has a serious boyfriend and is sleeping with at least one of his exes and possibly a couple of other people as well. Monogamy is so ... Victorian. So he doesn't really spend most of his life being sexually frustrated by Leigh.
> 
> Also they haven't escaped from me so far that they're ending up together, so don't get attached. All one of you.

“That’s enough for today, I think.”

Leigh straightened up and swung his legs over the side of the table. The sunlight fell half across his face. It was an interesting effect, David thought. Like two faces joined down the middle, the sunlit side pinky-white, the eye blue, deep and pure like real water never was, the hair shining nearly auburn; the other softened by the shade to pale dull purple-blue, gentle like the violet of the eye and the dark brown reddish glow of the hair. He sighed. Finish this one first. Then the end of the mural commission. Then the other one, that portrait. Then, if he had the chance to start something for himself, this new idea. Leigh closed his eyes against the sun.

“You can get dressed now,” David said, beginning to clean up.

Leigh shook his head, his eyes still closed. “I’ll sit a little,” he said.

David smiled to himself. “Is that for you or for me?”

“For me,” Leigh said, his lips barely curving up. “You’ve been looking at me for hours already, and I’m feeling lazy. How can staying still be so tiring? Though I don’t mind if you go on looking,” he added.

“I know you don’t,” David said softly, amused. He wasn’t sure if Leigh heard him or not. If he had, he made no reaction.

He did look, every so often, as he cleaned the brushes and the palette and tidied up. Leigh had dozed off sitting up, his head tilted back and his arms resting on his spread legs, his hands dangling between his thighs. David considered the pose and rejected it. The body could never be less than beautiful, but this wasn’t it at its best. It didn’t look particularly comfortable, either, but Leigh seemed to be managing it. Oh, to be young again, David thought cheerfully, though he was only older than Leigh by a year and really not more than normally decrepit for his age. But Leigh was youth itself and made one feel either very young with him or very old in contrast, and besides David enjoyed dangling that extra year over Leigh’s head sometimes.

He was still asleep.

“Leigh!” David hissed.

No response. He wasn’t sure what got into him then, unless it was the sunlight and Leigh, who was also sunlight, but everything was bright and happy and he suddenly felt like being ridiculous. He found an old paintbrush and drew it lightly from the tip of Leigh’s nose down over his lips and chin. Leigh’s face twitched. “ _Leigh_.” Then from beneath his ear, along the jawline and down over the pulse in his neck, and farther, down to the notch in his collarbone. 

Leigh’s head came up. “What - oh.” David showed him. “Paintbrush.”

“Yes,” David said. “Do you like it when I paint you?” He touched the brush to the center of Leigh’s forehead just below the too-long hair and drew it down the center of his face. _This is dangerous_ , he thought, and the brush continued, over Leigh’s chin and neck and down the center of his chest to his navel. Leigh giggled. The brush flicked lightly just below his ribs, then a line over the nipple on the other side. He twitched away from it, laughing breathlessly. And now it was moving randomly all over his torso, squiggles and lines and little daubs and his body jerked helplessly at its touch, and David was intent on the brush but somehow his smile included Leigh in it without meeting his eyes. He grabbed David’s wrist and twisted the paintbrush out of his hand, still laughing. David let it fall and tackled him back against the table, tickling his sides. Leigh squirmed joyfully beneath him, resisting half involuntarily and half to tease him. Their bodies pressed together and David became aware again that Leigh was naked with his legs on either side of David’s hips, and the half-sexuality of their game came out as if from behind a cloud. His hands stilled. “I want to -” he said. “Schoolkid stuff.” He kissed Leigh’s neck. Leigh lay quiet under him. He kissed down his body, following the line the brush had drawn before. Oh indescribable, unpaintable, that body. How else could one know the full beauty of it, of life and warmth and movement, than to touch it, than to lie above it like this? No picture could tell a tenth of that. He felt Leigh inhale at each kiss. He found himself kneeling before the table, between Leigh’s thighs. One last kiss to the inside of one, and he paused a moment to let Leigh argue, if he wanted to. He was already hardening from the moving against David’s body and from being kissed. The only sound was his panting breath, and David took him in his mouth. It was - he couldn’t have painted that either, much less explained the heat and the hard curve and the half-taste of skin and the little movements of Leigh’s hips and thighs at the edge of his awareness. Leigh was gasping, hoarse and long, as if he couldn’t breathe. It would have been terrifying if David hadn’t known why. It was lovely. It was probably too loud. He began to pull back, to hush him. Leigh came half in his mouth.

He was almost furious with Leigh for not warning him, but he thought it had probably been as much a surprise to him as it had to David. He fumbled for his handkerchief. Leigh struggled to his elbows and looked down at him, dazed. “Sorry.”

He flapped his hand dismissively and wiped his cheek and chin, and stood up. He could have touched himself and come in a heartbeat, but he wanted Leigh to do it, crouched over him or kneeling before him, with his solemn pink mouth. Even if Leigh kissed it with closed lips it would have been enough - that he should take it into his mouth was too wonderful for David to consider. He couldn’t ask him even for the kisses. He’d heard too much gossip and he knew too much of what Leigh had begged for, and then what Leigh had said no to, and he was afraid to spoil everything that had gone before and everything yet to come by asking for something Leigh might not want to give. He put his finger on Leigh’s mouth, asking without asking, if Leigh could understand. Leigh pursed his lips as if to kiss it or to blow it away - David wasn’t sure which. He took hold of David’s waistband and pulled him close, began unfastening his trousers.

His arm was strong against David’s back and his hand was rough against his skin. There was almost pain. He put one hand above Leigh’s wrist to feel the muscles and tendons move under the skin. He was in the circle of Leigh’s arm, and he cupped Leigh’s head in the other hand and pulled it against his neck and breathed into Leigh’s hair as Leigh’s hand moved on him. Until he came it was agonizingly forever and after it seemed it had been barely a moment.

He dug out his handkerchief again and wiped himself off, then took Leigh’s hand and cleaned it as if he had been a child. Leigh watched him patiently. He stuffed the (now thoroughly filthy) handkerchief back in his pocket and looked up. Leigh met his eyes, sweet-faced and unsmiling. David couldn’t think for a moment for the beauty of his face. There was nothing hidden about Leigh’s personality (David doubted whether he was even capable of keeping secrets about himself), but the still, expressionless face was lovely beyond human loveliness and there was the mystery of far-off dream mountains in it, somewhere at the back of the eyes. (If he’d been forced to think unpassionately, he would have thought Leigh was slightly pleased with himself for bringing David off, and with David’s obvious admiration.) He took Leigh’s face in his hands.

“Oh,” he said. “You are beautiful. Do you know you’re beautiful?”

Leigh said solemnly, “Yes.”

David burst out laughing. “Can this be vanity?” he said. “No! Nature is lovely, and rejoices in her loveliness. I am a child of Nature, and take after my Mother.”

Leigh looked offended at first and then recognized the words and laughed as well, if still a little testily. David kissed his cheek. “And now you really must get dressed. I want to take you out somewhere.”


End file.
